The Price We Paid: Vantage Point
by Kate-Emma
Summary: Part 2 of 8 - As the crew piece together who their enemy is, the Forefront Group face an old ally turned enemy. And when the Brisbane and Canberra are the only hope for the surivival of the Hammersley, will Mike and Kate be able to work together again?
1. The Price We Paid: Vantage Point

Following the loss of Bomber's brother-in-law, we returned to Cairns to drop off _The Reginald_ and her crew, maybe even to lose a few family members that had had enough. But, to my surprise, Jessica Carlisle was determined not to leave. In fact, she came to me asking to stay, even though Bomber had apparently told her to return to their hometown of Mount Isa. I was shocked, but tried not to show it to the civilian. Anyway, she was Bomber's sister so she was clearly built of tougher stuff than any of us could've imagined.

In comparison, Haynes has been taking it hard, believing he is entirely responsible for allowing the civilian into the halls when we were under attack. Already I have twice passed he and Scruffy arguing in the halls about him leaving the ship. Whether this happens or not remains to be seen, but it's no impact whatsoever on me if he goes.

My problems lay with Josh who has been cold since day one about having Cassie on board but even more now since the accident. I'm hoping he'll at least warm up for Cassie's birthday on Thursday, though I doubt that warmth will be for me.

It's not that I question at all my decision to bring Cassie on board, and nor do I question that Josh will do anything to protect her, but now I wonder whether this whole ordeal will end up costing us more than one life before the year is out. And maybe even my marriage…

**The Price We Paid**

2/8

Vantage Point:

Australia is running out water. With anarchy dotting the east coast and fires rampaging through cities and towns, a new approach to the water shortage problem is needed. Prime Minister Argyle calls on an old ally, the United States of America, for support. But is their quick response more than friendship? Are Australia's water borders, which the Hammersley protect, hiding something more important? Can Finch and the Forefront Group expose their real motives before it's too late?

On board the Hammersley tension grows to great levels when warring husband and wife team Robert and Kasey Dixon are forced to work closer after Kasey takes on the position of R.O as Scruffy Murphy falls sick. Can they work together while the world around them falls apart?

And on the mainland Commander McGregor is forced to re-visit old problems when she's informed by HMAS Kuttabul that, due to arson attacks, she has two new ships under her command – the Brisbane and the Canberra. Can Canberra CO, Captain Mike Flynn, and Kate put aside their differences and save the Hammersley when the Americans set their sights on the little patrol boat?

PRICE WE PAID: VANTAGE POINT starts August 24th…


	2. CH 1: Names

_Vantage Point_

Chapter Thirty-One;  
Names

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet…  
- William Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_; II, ii, 1-2

"Uncle Buffer."

The little girl shook her head. "No."

"Come on Cass, say it, 'Uncle Buffer'."

Cass shook her head again. "No."

Buffer sighed. "But you can't keep calling me Mister Buffer, that sounds silly."

"Oh, okay." Cassie bit her lip and looked around, her eyes locking on Buffer's nametag. "Mister Tomma-zoo-ski."

"It's Tomma-chev-ski."

"Zoo-ski." Cassie grinned proudly.

Buffer sighed. "Alright, you can keep calling me 'Mister Buffer'."

"Zoo-ski." Cassie laughed.

Buffer sighed. He'd done it now. Glancing up at the door he saw ET watching them. ET too was grinning, a smile similar to his daughter's. Buffer glared. "This is your doing."

ET pointed to himself, feigning innocence, as Cassie started dancing around singing 'zoo-ski' at the top of her lungs. "Me? You're the one who wanted to correct her. I learnt long ago that, just like her mother, Cassandra is always right."

Buffer shook his head. "Doe-eyed, sandy-haired little demon child." He looked at Cassie dancing then back at ET. "How are you and Nav?"

ET shrugged. "Don't know. Kinda glad I don't too, you know what I mean?" Buffer didn't so ET explained. "It's just easier being in the bad books especially seeing as I do know how I got there in the first place. Let's just say 'better the devil you know'."

"So you don't want to clear things up with Nav?"

"Of course I do, just, not in the middle of the ocean when we're rounding up illegals and dealing with family." He waved Cass over with a wiggle of his finger. The little girl danced up and into her father's waiting arms. "I'll take her off your very capable hands." ET smiled.

"Bye bye 'zoo-ski'." Cassie waved.

"Uncle Buffer." Buffer called after her as ET carried her from the cabin.

A small voice floated back towards him as he stood up and it sounded a lot like it was saying 'zoo-ski'. With a smile and a shake of his head, Buffer went back to work.

***

"They're called the Nagamasaki Corporation." Nav pointed at the screen as the four other figures in the dining room frowned up from the table. Using a whiteboard marker as a pointer, Nav motioned down a line she'd drawn on the small whiteboard that led to the name '_The Avalanche'_, the ship they'd picked up first that had drawn them into this whole mess. "They've owned _The Avalanche_, a supply vessel that used to operate between ports in North and South Korea, since 2002. She was reported decommissioned and sold in 2009, but no papers were lodged to suggest so."

"So you think they still own her?" Swain asked, frowning at the whiteboard.

Nav nodded. "They have the reasons." She glanced at the only other female figure in the room. "Dixon?"

Kasey stood up, taking the whiteboard marker off Nav. "The Nagamasaki Corporation were part-owned by a very rich Brit named Hunter Connelly. Hunter, however, was charged with fraud in 2006 and had to sell out his shares in the profitable organisation. After that the share price fell and slowly, but surely, the Nagamasaki Corporation ran into the ground."

"Hunter Connelly? What has he got to do with this?" Swain asked again.

"Everything." Nav pulled a sheet of paper out of the file she'd been holding and slapped it down on the table. "Fresh in from the AFP. They got a call months ago about a threat against an Australian warship, against us. It was from an unnamed source in northern England. But they tracked it, the tip-off was from a tapped line, and it came from Hunter's office."

"You telling me that Hunter dobbed himself into the AFP?" Radar asked, glancing up from the sheet of paper with a look of disbelief etched on his face.

"Yes, he dobbed himself in." Kasey groaned facetiously.

Nav smothered a smile. "No, but someone else did. A man with an English accent, that's all we know from the AFP. They were slow to track the threat and by the time they did Hunter and the informant were gone."

"The English police raided Hunter's office when they realised he was back to shady business and gathered what he left behind. Among them logged calls to a sat phone on a ship we know rather well," Kasey explained before turning and drawing a line from Hunter's name to a new name she scribbled in. "The _Arctic Princess_."

"So, let's get this straight: The _Arctic Princess_, including Mr. Remington, work for Hunter Connelly a disgraced businessman who has links with the owners of a ship named _The Avalanche_, the same ship that we found a bunch of unregistered guns on as well as being the ship that Remington threatened us about, all taking us back to the Nagamasaki Corporation. And what do this corporation do exactly? What do they sell?" Robert summed up, meeting his wife's eye for the first time that afternoon.

Kasey gave a slow smile. "Exactly." She turned back to the board and wrote in a small sentence underneath the Nagamasaki Corporation that shocked the three men. "They were the biggest makers of Navy arsenal." She dotted the Is and crossed the Ts. "Their main trade? They built Tomahawks for the US Navy."

"Thanks Kasey." Nav took the whiteboard marker back as Kasey took her seat again. "This has only just begun people, you can be sure of that. And I'm certain that before this year is out, big things will have happened."

Swain frowned. "How big?"

"Huge." Nav closed the folder and put down the whiteboard marker addressing she was done. "Estote parati. Just, be prepared."

**A/N: **Vantage Point… and the return of an old enemy. Ahhh the Americans hate me but I can just about live with that. Next chapter we return to the politics. So, tell me, anyone guessed who Finch is yet? More in Chapter Two: March, up Friday.


	3. CH 2: March

_Vantage Point_

Chapter Thirty-Two;  
March

March brought with it disappointment for the Forefront Group. Two members dropped out, citing personal reasons, and the Prime Minister Argyle stayed in power. From their head office outside the political hills of Canberra, Finch read with dismay a report from the PM's office that the frog-faced minister was enjoying the position and had no intention of going anywhere. Scrunching the paper up in a ball, he threw it into a bin in the corner. It was at this exact moment that the Forefront Group's leader, Nicholas Kingsley, entered the room with a smile. "Good news?"

Finch growled. "He's the worst one yet!"

Kingsley took a seat across the desk from his second-in-charge. "Maybe, but he's providing stability. It's starting to filter through the system too. The SA Premier is calling Argyle the best we've ever had."

"He would, these idiots stick together, but lasting a lot longer than previous predictions does not make you good at your job, it just makes you cold."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "This coming from a man who, despite telling everyone else to rank up, stayed in the same position his entire career."

"I ranked up, you don't just wander into a commanding position you know!" Finch protested. Kingsley just smiled. "Must you taunt me Nicholas?"

Kingsley stood up. "We both know that tough times bring out the best in you Finch." He patted the man on the shoulder. "Don't stress about Argyle, just think about what we're doing to make sure that when he does go, and he will go, we're next in line." Finch nodded. "Good man." He left. Finch just went back to his files with a frown, wondering what Argyle would do next that would make him stress…

***

It was another sunny autumn day in a foreign port, just the way the only figure on the mid-sized fishing vessel liked it. Just the right amount of breeze, just the right amount of sun, and the perfect opportunity to work on something somewhat resembling a tan. Not that she had any time to laze about right now – she had work to do.

With her shoulder-length brown hair tied up in a small braid and tucked into a baseball cap, sporting dirty overalls and no shoes, the girl didn't look like a girl at all. In fact, she looked like one of the many young deckhands that littered the harbour, aside the fact that unlike most of them she was white. But from a distance, hunched over a mound of tangled fishing nets, she looked like any other.

But the boat she was on wasn't any other. A mid-sized white and blue trawler, newly-painted after a run-in with the enemy, but still sporting her name across the bow: _Arctic Princess_. The _Princess_ had seen more than any trawler should, braving heavy seas in the Pacific, frozen nights in the Antarctic Circle and being fired on by both Argentinean and Australian Navy. She had the scars to prove it. But to the ship's captain Tim Remington, and his little sister, she was everything to them. She was home.

It was why 21-year-old Hallie had been given the task of watching her that afternoon as the others went ashore to gather supplies, a task much harder than it used to be when you could just walk up to a trader and buy something. The country they were in now had no discernible currency anymore, having failed in the economic crisis, and this meant reverting back to trade and work to get supplies. The previous supply trip had cost the Remingtons two crewmembers, but they were due to return soon and then the _Princess_ would be back to full-strength, just in time for their next mission.

Hallie wasn't told about the missions until they eventuated, but that never stopped her finding out, whether that meant coercing one of the crew into telling her or the old-fashioned method of listening at keyholes. Either way, Hallie was just the right amount of sneaky and invisible to get away with it. Listening in was her forte and from it she had managed to establish that her brother was now working under the control of a man named Hunter Connelly, a booming-voiced British man who had little to no sense of humour, especially when it came to her brother's warped one. She'd only been found listening in twice – once by one of the crew who had pulled her into her brother's office as he spoke to Hunter. It was just after the contact with the Hammersley and Remington had been hurriedly organising how to stay out of trouble. Hallie had spoken up, saying she could sweet-talk the crew. Remington had raised a sceptical eyebrow, but Hunter had agreed. Use the kid, play sweet and look innocent. It had been Hunter's idea to have Hallie crush on the Navy ship and Hallie had played the part brilliantly. Still, she didn't warrant joining the informed team and soon had to resort to keyholes.

The second time had been the day before, caught listening as Remington and his 2IC de Costa talked. Remington had spotted her lurking and dragged her back to her cabin, telling her to stay out of other people's business. She'd demanded that, as part of the crew, it was her business. He'd grounded her and shut the door in her face. Hallie had spent the rest of the night sulking, glaring at anyone who passed her cabin and asked if she wanted to come out and have any dinner. She hadn't emerged till the next morning when Remington had informed her they were going ashore and she was to stay aboard and try not to sink the old girl. She'd glared him off the gangplank.

It was why, at two on a sunny March afternoon, she was sitting on the deck unravelling nets, bored out of her mind. As she leant back on the deck to try and get some sunshine (and maybe a nap), boots sounded on the gangplank and Hallie looked up, realizing no one had called out. It was code on the ship. If you were returning you called out before you entered, that way one of the crew's many trigger-happy Brazilians wouldn't accidently shoot you.

It meant whoever was coming up the gangplank wasn't one of the crew.

Sliding back behind a pile of crates, Hallie fished out her handgun, made sure it was loaded with a fresh new clip, and flicked off the safety, watching as a figure in a dark blue hoodie entered the deck and looked around. Hallie could only just made out his face. White. A lot older than her, probably about mid-thirties, with dark brown hair. He frowned at the empty deck then called out. "Hello?" Hallie noticed the Australian accent straightaway. It stood out around here like a sore thumb. He pulled off the hood of his shirt and Hallie bit her lip. He was gorgeous. As he frowned again at the empty deck, making to leave, Hallie finally stood. He didn't spot her at first and she had to clear her throat. He turned on his heel and took her in, Hallie fighting back a blush as his amber-coloured eyes assessed her. "You in charge of this ship?"

Hallie shook her head, keeping her hand on her gun just in case, not letting a growing instinct to trust him overtake her training. "No, my brother is. Why? What do you want?"

He gave her a blank look. "I want a job."

Hallie lowered an eyebrow. "There aren't any going." She paused, feelings his eyes wander over her again. His eyes came back to hers as she spoke again. "Why us? Why not any of the hundred or so other boats in this harbour?"

"Because," the brunette man replied with a sparkle in his eyes, "I know who you work for and who you're hunting." Hallie gave him a blank look. "The HMAS Hammersley, our mutual enemy." Hallie flicked the safety back on her handgun and pocketed it. "I have the right ship, don't I?" He gave a charming smile.

"You know the Hammersley?" He nodded and she motioned downstairs. "Maybe you should wait down here then. My brother will be back soon." He followed as she led him down into the base of the ship, filling her in on himself as they walked and what he could offer. By the time Remington returned to the Princess Hallie had already made up her mind. The man was staying.

And, thankfully, her brother agreed. He was too good an asset to lose.

**A/N**: Well, this took a little longer than I expected. The second half is a new addition born from a few too many repeats of the third season. See if you can guess who our new bad guy is. I hope you'll like him… I do… *winks* And so does Hallie! Okay, third chapter will be up in two weeks. Now, I better update Small World before I get killed…


	4. CH 3: Birthday Girl

_Vantage Point_

Chapter Thirty-Three;  
Birthday Girl

A thick layer of smoke hangs over the place, clogging the lungs of the families that reside in the area. But the people in the arcade carry on their business, used to the dark grey shroud that is so thick now it's no longer pierced by the sun. They haven't seen that bright ball of yellow in months and have grown accustomed to life without it.

It's warm and the children of the area are playing in the arcade's small fountain system. The council bought the last of the water available to them so they could keep it running. It's the one thing left in the arcade that is still in business. The bank is closed. Restaurants are boarded up. Even Woolworths sold up and moved on, not that you could really call it 'sold' when no one bought it. Once upon a time the arcade had been bustling with people, ear marked by the State Government for upgrade and the hub of festivals and local television stations filming scenes for high-rating Australian dramas. Now the pavings are cracked, the stores are closed and the beautiful green arches of flowers have died away to twigs and brown. It's a shadow of it's former self. But still it's the heart of a long-dead Sydney suburb and for its mostly Oriental inhabitants a place to meet and discuss the horrors of life around them. The fires haven't reached this northwestern suburb yet, but it's only a matter of time. For now they remain stuck in the one safe place – the last of the middle class.

None of them pay any heed to the older white man in the middle of the arcade, talking nonsense about American occupation, fossil fuels and anarchy. Another man made mad by the state they all now live in. They give him blank looks and carry on their way. And later, as he walks home, no one notices the dark blue car pull up beside him and drag him inside. No one notices and he is never to be seen again.

***

"FOUR!"

Cassie, dancing up and down the halls of the Hammersley, sang loudly along to the tune in her head. She danced past the galley and Bomber stuck her head out the door. "Hello Cassie. Happy birthday."

Cassie stopped and grinned back at her. "Fank you Bomber." She held up four fingers on her right hand. "I'm four today!"

"Four? Wow, you'll be off to school soon with all the big kids." She crouched down to Cassie's level. "Did you get your presents yet?" The little girl shook her head enthusiastically. "What did you ask for?"

"A pony."

Bomber laughed. "I don't think we're allowed ponies on board, even for little cuties like you." She gave Cassie a soft jab in the belly and the child giggled. "But we'll find out at your party this afternoon!"

Cassie clapped. "Yeah, party! Mummy said you're making me a cake." She tipped her head. "Can I see it?" Bomber shook her head and Cassie's smile dropped. "Oh, okay."

"You'll see it soon." Bomber stood again. "Have you asked Chloe to your party? And Alex?" Cassie nodded. "Good girl."

"And Oscar too, but he says he's too old for parties."

"There you are, I've been looking for you." ET appeared at the end of the hall. "Sorry Bomb, has she been disturbing you?"

Bomber grinned. "No, Cass' just been telling me she asked you for a pony."

ET nodded. "She did, and she's not getting it."

"I had a pony when I was four." Bomber told the girl. Cassie's eyes lit up. "But I lived on a farm then, not on a ship. Ponies get seasick."

Cassie put her hand to her mouth. "Oh no, poor Buttercup." She turned to her father. "I don't want a pony anymore. It's cruel. I'd rather have a skipping rope."

"Good." ET winked at Bomber and she guessed that was exactly what the birthday girl was getting. She chuckled. "Cass, go find Mummy and tell her you want a skipping rope now." The little blonde head bobbed a nod then ran off. ET glanced at Bomber. "You got the cake?" Bomber motioned him to the galley where she withdrew a big pink cake from the fridge. She showed ET the decorations. 'Happy Birthday Cassie' across the top, with a white frosting fairy Jess had drawn by hand underneath. ET grinned. "That's awesome Rebecca, I owe you one."

"It's fine, all women love an excuse to eat cake." She stuck it back in the fridge carefully. "And Billy and Seagull are setting up the dining room. Well, they should be anyway."

"I'll have a look in when I go past. Thanks for organising this Bomber, I know Nikki wishes she had the time, but with this business with the _Princess_ and Tom, well…"

"I understand. Anyway, Jess has been enjoying the distraction. She's done most of the work, I just stuck the cake in the oven and made sure it didn't burn." She pulled out of a nearby cupboard a small lighter and a pack of sparklers. "Get these to the dining room when you pop your head in, just don't, under any circumstances, let Seagull touch them. That boy is a closet pyromaniac. You should've seen him in here earlier playing with that lighter, it was scary!"

"You got it." He went to the door. "Thanks again Bomber. You've made Cass' day." Bomber shrugged, thinking nothing of it. He gave her a nod and a smile then left. Bomber went back to her party preparations without a second thought.

**A/N: **Oh god, I read that last line back and thought of you Fin… great, now I'm picturing BET! *hits you*


	5. CH 4: Argyle

**Disclaimer: **I don't own 'Sea Patrol'

Yay! I graduated! So here's a shiny new chapter to go with my shiny new degree…

Chapter Thirty-Four;  
Argyle

TRANSCRIPT FROM PARLIAMENT SITTING – Tuesday, 13th March 2013

The Honourable Robert Argyle, Prime Minister of Australia

They say blood is thicker than water. That courage and strength come not from what tears us down but what keeps us together. But today what unites us as a nation, what keeps the poor man in the same boat as the rich man and all else in between, is what has plagued us for years. What gives Australia its exclusive position in the world as barren and beautiful. The wide brown land. Water. Water water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. For we are the largest island in the world, but we are also the first to fall under spells usually condemned to landlocked countries. Ladies and gentlemen of the floor and gallery, I regret to inform you of a memo that reached my desk this morning – Australia is down to its last 5%.

(SPEAKER interrupts to bring order to the room)

Thank you Mr. Speaker. If I may continue in the words of Boutros Boutros-Ghali, former UN Secretary General speaking as Egypt's foreign minister in 1988…

'The next war in our region will be over the waters of the Nile, not politics.'

Words that speak echoes through time, even after so many years. But to justify, I am not here today to warn of war and upcoming problems. With the world itself failing around us, the last thing we need is to intensify the problems with misplaced words. For this reason, I take your time and my words with liberty. Give me your ears and I will give you an answer.

(PRIME MINISTER pauses and pulls from a folder a pile of papers, half of which he hands across to the OPPOSITION MINISTER, The Honourable Arthur Joll, Member for Blaxland. The other pile he places at the end of the table for INDEPENDENT PARTY The Forefront Group, headed by The Honourable Nicholas Kingsley, Member for the Hunter Region)

In your hands you will find my recommendations for this crisis. I ask you to read and evaluate them in your own time and reconvene with me tomorrow to discuss the options I have laid out to you. Until then, I hope you will listen as I explain my reasoning for such a decision.

The consumption of water and fuel grow more and more every day. We knew about this years ago, times when we could've changed the issues we face today, but we stalled. We fought over their basis in fact rather than preparing ourselves for the worst. We had not then the sense to foresee the worst as we do now. From this vantage point we make the judgements we make today, the calls we did not have the heart to make years ago – ladies and gentlemen of the floor and gallery, I remind you that five years ago we made a promise for 2020. The Honourable Kevin Rudd, Prime Minister, made a plan to have things fixed by 2020. Today is our 2020 ladies and gentlemen. Things are so much worse than we could ever have predicted. The answers we gave are not ready. The promises we, as a nation, were meant to fulfil have gone cold. Previous governments have failed the Australian people. I will not let this happen again.

(SPEAKER interrupts again when the Government backbenchers cheer)

Thank you Mr. Speaker. I will continue.

As you all well know, fuel is running out. We no longer have enough fuel or power to keep electricity going. We no longer have the power to work the turbines in the Desalination Plants. We no longer have the energy to produce water. We have been left, I fear, to god's green graces, a mix of mistakes by previous governments too keen to privatise, sell and destroy the schemes that could have worked us through these desperate times. We are running out of water ladies and gentlemen, and this doesn't just mean less showers.

It takes 1,000 litres of water to grow a kilo of potatoes. 1,450 litres to grow and harvest wheat. It takes 8,000 litres of water to produce 1 ton of maize which can then be converted into ethanol to power our desalination plants and recycling plants, if only for a little longer. But we don't have 8,000 litres of water or 1 ton of maize to spare ladies and gentlemen. We are on our last legs, stuck in a vicious circle where we cannot have oil without water, nor water without oil. Excluding a rain dance, our last hope lays not with our own abilities but with the power of others.

As a proud nation we have called for help before. There is no time like the present to do so again.

I have asked the President of the United States of America, our most trusted ally, for his help. He promises me he can offer something worth our time and effort. An answer to how to bring the rains back to Australia.

(SPEAKER interrupts again, this time to quieten the opposition)

No Mr. Joll, I do not deal in magic men like yourself.

(SPEAKER interrupts again to ask the PRIME MINISTER to finish his speech)

Of course Mr. Speaker.

In closing I remind you of the 2007 elections where the Honourable John Howard, Prime Minister and Member for Bennelong, lost his seat and his position due to mismanagement of the water crisis in the Murray-Darling Basin. I refer to a quote by the United Nations Development Programme on the issue:

'_There is too little water… and too many cattle_'

This government will not follow the herd ladies and gentlemen. We will lead you through this storm and into the rain.

I promise you.


	6. CH 5: In Sickness and In Health

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Sea Patrol. All characters in this chapter are originals, but as they inhabit a world I do not own, I therefore relinquish their ownership! Oooh, how official does that sound eh? ;)

**A/N: **Dedicated to stomach bugs, writer's block, apple festivals and my new love: chai tea. That stuff is addictive!

-

_Vantage Point_

Chapter Thirty-Five;  
In Sickness and In Health

"Oscar misses mum." Seagull groaned as he joined Kent and Radar in the galley, silent now that Bomber had disappeared off to help out on the bridge. "Keeps asking when we'll get back to shore."

"Isn't your mum in Sydney but?" Kent asked, now tearing into a packet of chocolate-covered raisins before Bomber returned and struck him with a rolling pin until he relinquished them.

"Yeah, but I think he thinks that when we get back to shore she'll be waiting for him. I mean, she might, mum's a bit overprotective of Oscar."

"He's 14, it's time for him to grow up." Radar spoke up, not intending the comment to sound so harsh, even though it couldn't really be taken any other way.

Kent and Seagull both frowned at him. "Cold mate." Kent finally muttered.

"Yeah, you're saying at 14 that you never missed your parents when you went away?"

Radar shrugged. "That was a long time ago." But he was avoiding the question. At 14 Michael had missed his mother almost every day. He had since she'd passed away when he was nine. Not that he was keen to share any of this with his crewmates. In his mind it didn't affect his work in any way, so why should it matter?

"Yeah, well, for Oscar it isn't. He's just a kid Collins, why don't you cut him a break?" Seagull walked away then, not keen to be reminded that Radar was his senior officer. Kent just grabbed the chocolate raisins and skedaddled as well. Radar frowned after the junior sailors before gathering up his cup of coffee and heading back for the bridge.

**

"Well you look like crap." Luke leant on the doorframe, smirking at the pale-faced figure laying prone on the floor, her face tilted to the side so it wasn't buried in the hard flooring. She moved it a little so her eyes could assess him before she gave a groan that suggested his comments were unwelcome. "What's wrong?"

"Stomach bug."

"Did Swain tell you that?" He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "Or did you self diagnose?"

"Swain," she murmured before eliciting another groan. Luke just chuckled. Her eyes narrowed. "Why would you laugh at me?"

"Because stomach bugs mean you can't eat. You without food, that's like a fish without water, a balloon without air, a…"

She cut him off by holding up two fingers very close together. "You are about this far away from getting punched in the face."

"Awww, you've still got your fight." He patted her head mockingly. "You'll be alright." She muttered something that sounded a lot like 'bastard'. Luke just laughed. "So what did Swain suggest?"

"Rest, no stress." She rolled over and sat up, clutching at her stomach through her dark grey shirt. "You're not helping that happen."

"Me? Stress? You? Ha! You're the one that causes stress Scruffy Murphy, not the other way around."

Emma groaned again and fell to the floor ungracefully. "It feels like death… no worse than death… like your cooking."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Even in the face of your own impending demise you still manage to insult me." She held up a thumb before her arm fell back to her side with a thump. "It's those little normalities that keep life from spiralling out of control."

"You're very theoretical today. Please don't tell me you found a book to read. Something with more depth than 'Fisherman's Weekly: the ultimate guide to Australia's most-loved past time.'" She feigned casting a line, her arms above her head as she spoke. "If you're over 65!"

"If you haven't noticed, we're not exactly getting mail here anymore." He sat down on her bunk and frowned at her. She was a shade of white he hadn't seen before and some marks on her cheeks suggested she'd been crying. Luke didn't bring it up. He knew Scruffy well enough to know she wouldn't talk about this kind if thing. Giving in to stupid things like stomach bugs would make her look weak and that was the last thing she wanted. "Does the Nav know you're unwell?"

"No…" she started, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "I'm lying here when I should be on a shift just for the fun of it. I'm hoping she comes storming in just as I'm mid-chuck. 'Leading Seaman Murphy, why aren't you on the…' blegh, barf on her shoes!"

"Alright Captain Sarcasm, I'll let you lie here and wallow in your own plans for spewing on the CO." Scruffy gave a soft laugh. "Anything I can get you?" She shook her head, her eyes still trained on the cabin roof. "Okay, I'll come see you later if you promise not to barf on my shoes."

He reached the door before she responded. "I promise you nothing." With a chuckle he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

**A/N: **Yeah, that's right; Vantage Point is back… complete with sad back-stories and spew on Nav's shoes! Welcome back old chum!


	7. CH 6: Arson

**Disclaimer: **I own not the Sea Patrol-ness of this piece!

Chapter Thirty-Six;  
Arson

"A beautiful day on Sydney Harbour rocked by another of many explosions. But today was much bigger than the rest. This one coming from HMAS Kuttabul, better known as Fleet Base East, the naval dockyard in the heart of the Sydney Harbour National Park and not far from enemy territory. Until now the military have waited for their harbourside retreat to be breached by those running afoul on their doorsteps, and now it seems that day has come. Sarah Prince has the story."

Mike glanced up from the controls at the sound of a 'woman's' voice. "It began at 7am, the sound of danger brewing at the Navy's major east coast base. Up until now HMAS Kuttabul in Sydney's Potts Point, has avoided the damage affiliated with other wealthy and high profile areas. But, it seems, that was only temporary. Fire crews who were first on the scene report that, like many others in the area, the buildings of HMAS Kuttabul are unsalvageable. Thankfully, says Chief-of-Navy Admiral 'can't see anything outside his own power' Henshaw, the only two ships based out of Sydney were out on patrols. The HMAS Canberra, captained by Captain Mike Flynn, and HMAS Brisbane, captained by the devilishly handsome Steven Price, are not expected to return to base."

The voice changed to that of a man again, but a really stupid voice like someone doing their idiot tone. "Uh, yeah, they uh… not coming back. Uh derrr. Where's my money?"

The woman's voice came back. "Admiral Henshaw there. It is believed that the two ships will move their base elsewhere, but no reports yet. As for the fire… well, it just adds to the skyline of what was once the most beautiful city in Australia… Back to you in the studio."

Mike grabbed the radio as the voice fell silent. "You can't just give me the news like a normal person, can you?"

Price chuckled. "I miss the dumb bimbos the used to read my news out to me. You know the ones, blonde and big-boobed, trying to explain the American intervention in the Gaza Strip when they have no idea where Gaza is." He paused to the sound of rustling papers. "So, anyway, news is, Kuttabul is goneskies. We've got two options for bases, and neither appeal to me."

"What have we got?" Mike sighed, glancing at his 2IC who gave a wary smile. Mike just shook his head in reply. 'No, I don't get him either'.

"Coonawarra or Cairns. I was hoping for Stirling but apparently, the CO there is a jerk." He hit something, Mike guessed the table, and spoke again. "So, what is it Mikey? Darwin or the great north home you miss so much?"

"I wouldn't mind being based out of Cairns again. Is Steven Marshall still in charge?"

Price laughed. "Wow, you really keep up with the news don't you? That's like asking if Rudd is still PM." Mike frowned. "No, Marshall left the Navy last August, he retired. The new CO of Cairns is…" he shuffled some papers then stopped. "Ah, here we are, Commander Kate McGregor."

Mike froze in his seat. "What?"

"Commander Kate McGregor, previous ships the…" Price stopped. "The Hammersley. You knew Kate, didn't you?"

"Uh, let's go to HMAS Coonawarra, I like Darwin, nice place."

Price laughed. "Oh no way are you going to get out of this. We're going to Cairns now. My CIS is already giving them a call." He breathed out deeply. "Oh Mike, at least I know that I'll never get bored with you."

Mike looked out the window at the ship not far away, Price's HMAS Brisbane. He shook his head at it. Bloody Price.

***

Commander Kate McGregor was unaware of the new recruits' identities, having just accepted the acquisition of the two vessels without checking their particulars. With so few boats under her command at the moment, she relished the opportunity to take command of something bigger than a patrol boat and what could be better than the Navy's two biggest ships?

She had, of course, heard about the Kuttabul arson attack, not surprised at all when the news came through. Not surprised, but a little worried. An attack on Sydney meant it was only a matter of time before HMAS Cairns saw their own onslaught, and the way things were going around town, it looked more like a case of when rather than if.

Nightly attacks on the base were a common occurrence now, just the night before an attack by fireworks had taken place, the crew of Cairns unaware where the fireworks had come from, but having heard the Hammersley's tales of attack by the same kind of weapon only days earlier, it was likely the two were connected. Of course, knowing where they were coming from and doing anything about it were two different things. The Cape and the likely source of this mess was a long way away and as she and the dwindling crew of the HMAS Cairns were pretty much hostages in their own Defence Force base, any option to get up there and cut them off seemed unlikely. The Maryborough had been monitoring the island since the Hammersley's intelligence regarding _The Avalanche_ and the acquisition of _The Reginald_. So far their scouting trips had been without success. This didn't stop Kate's belief however that trouble never lingered far from the island and so the Maryborough continued its work. With the Hammersley caught up in their mission to retrieve the _Arctic Princess_ and return her crew to gaol, border security for the Northern EEZ had fallen dramatically. Hopefully the inclusion of two large battle ships would be enough to scare any illegals away.

But then with the way things were right now you could never be sure.

After the attack on the Hammersley, the _Arctic Princess_ had high-tailed it away in the direction of international waters. Kate didn't share Nikki Holliday's optimism that she was still in Australian waters, instead placing her markers on foreign ports like Singapore and the Philippines, but making the Hammersley CO listen wasn't an easy job and so Kate had allowed the patrol boat one fortnight to find their men. After that getting back to border protection was the only way. Of course with the fortnight deadline fast approaching, forcing the Hammersley back into line now seemed like a pipedream.

The ship had become a floating lifeline for the HMAS Cairns and families. More than once Kate had been asked by the small handful of sailors she controlled for a chance onto the ship. It wasn't that the Hammersley wasn't in need of staff; it was, but that the base was in need of staff too. There weren't enough people in the Navy to go around anymore and those that had stayed; most had the sense to head to Darwin or Perth, the two remaining 'safe' spots.

And although offers to follow them had come through, Kate remained fiercely loyal to HMAS Cairns, despite being unsure why…


	8. CH 7: Testing The Waters

**Disclaimer: **I own the Sea Patrol-ness, but not the Sea Patrol itself… yeah, work that one out!

_Vantage Point_

Chapter Thirty-Seven;  
Testing The Waters

"Robert, Scruffy's sick."

RO frowned up from the computer. "Yes, and?" He looked up at the Nav. "Sorry…" he responded to her frown then turned back to the computer. "Yes, and? Ma'am."

"So, you're needed on the bridge, back on R.O duty."

RO stopped typing. "Ma'am, I have a truckload of paperwork here to do myself without taking on Scruffy's stuff too. Can't someone else do it?"

Nav frowned. "Alright Robert, just, don't blame me when you have to work with her." Robert looked up. "The only other person capable of doing this job is Danni. If you don't have a problem with it, I'll ask her to take up the assistant CIS position."

RO shrugged. "Not a problem." He looked back to his work. Nav made a noise that sounded like 'mhm' then left. Robert frowned after her. Not a problem indeed.

***

"Scruffy, I need the report about t…" RO looked up, realising he wasn't looking at the short, dark-haired figure of Scruffy Murphy. Before him sat his tall, slender, blonder and more scowling wife. Kasey gave him a cold look but Robert continued. "I need the Avalanche file, I can't find it."

"Over there." Kasey motioned lazily over her shoulder towards where the other files were kept.

Robert sighed. "The Avalanche file is supposed to stay with the others down in the CommCen." He wasn't really too bothered about where the file was kept, but right now the fact that Kasey had moved it was what was bugging him most and he couldn't put his finger on exactly why that was.

"Well I'm sorry sir," she pushed the boundaries with 'sir', making it sound like an insult. "But I was using it and decided to leave it up here for future reference." She took on an even colder tone. "I didn't want to disturb you while you were busy down there." She gave a tight, glaring smile.

RO frowned at her. "Leading Seaman Dixon, CommCen, five minutes." He turned and stalked away. Handing the headphones over to Seagull with a look, Kasey followed. When she reached the CommCen he shut the door behind her.

"What were you doing up there?"

"My job." Kasey replied with her usual cold tone.

Robert frowned. "You embarrassed both of us. Made me look like an idiot."

"And that's what I do best isn't it Robert? Make you look like an idiot. Maybe if I'm so damn embarrassing we should just cut ties altogether."

RO smacked his hand down on the door behind her, mere millimetres from her face, as he spoke. "I am your senior on board and you knew that when you took up the position of assistant CIS. Don't think you can get away with talking back just because we're married."

Kasey's nose crinkled up in disgust. "I wouldn't even imagine it." They stayed silent for a second, RO's glare boring into her but she didn't flinch.

Eventually he pulled away, a glimmer of hurt in his expression, but it was gone as soon as it came. "Get back to work." He didn't look at her at all as she yanked open the door.

"Yes sir." She slipped out, slamming the door behind her as she left. Then, with a deep ragged breath, she rushed back up to the bridge.

***

"We're voting against it?"

Kingsley nodded, his eyes drawn to a file in his hand, ignoring the looks from Finch which now bordered somewhere between shock and confusion. "Yes, we are."

"Why?" Finch couldn't understand why they would be against this move by the standing government. From what he'd heard, everything that was coming from the States would be a godsend. "We need their help. They're bringing water, water we desperately need."

Kingsley nodded. "Apparently enough to, if used sparingly for just agriculture and drinking, last us a year." Finch gaped. A year's worth of water just might hold them out of this mess long enough to attempt a recovery. "Not just that," Kingsley continued, "they've almost perfected the art of cloud seeding too and are bringing it over to test out in our atmosphere."

"This is great." Finch couldn't believe what he was being told. None of this gave him reason to vote against Argyle's proposal. "Why the hell are we against it?"

"Because of this." Kingsley slapped a piece of paper down on the desk in front of Finch and the older man gave it a blank look.

"What, bleached coral?" Kingsley nodded. "What do we care about a part of the Barrier Reef that died through global warming?"

"Because, answer me this my friend, what is the one thing that America doesn't have? They have floods so they've got plenty of water. The floods help them grow more rice than they know what to do with – the same way the Chinese used to plant rice along the Yangtze so that when the banks broke the rice paddy fields would be flooded, killing the weeds and leaving the rice crops rich and strong." Kingsley paused. "So, what's the missing ingredient?"

"If you mean oil then…" Kingsley slapped the table like Finch had finally got it. "That makes no sense because we don't have any oil either. Why would they come here for it?"

Kingsley tapped the picture. "Enter our friend bleached coral. Grind it up, mix it with certain chemicals and refine it then voila, ethanol."

"Ethanol as in…"

Kingsley nodded. "Ethanol as in clean fuel. Enough power to run a small electricity grid, enough to run a few refining plants, enough to give America a chance to rebuild."

"So Argyle knows this?"

"Where did you think I got the info from? My spy on the inside of the PM's office." Kingsley gave a sly grin at the mention of his man on the inside. He'd worked hard to get a mole into the PM's room and wasn't about to give any more details away about him lest he be found. Even Finch didn't know his identity. "Argyle knows all right, and he knows the Americans do too. He wants to trade with them." Finch frowned. "Problem is, how many Americans do you know that trade?"

"About two."

"Yeah, same. Worse than that though, they're sending the one man best known for ending every trade agreement with a bullet between someone's eyes." Out from the folder came another sheet, this one of a man Finch recognized. "Know him?"

"Captain James Hornet. Hornet by name and Hornet by nature. The man is a human wrecking ball. Believed to be behind the 'trade agreement' death of the Cuban President two years ago as well the disappearance of the Venezuelan PM in 2009."

"Exactly. They call him 'The Cleaner'. Got a problem, he'll come in and clean it up." Kingsley shook his head. "Argyle has opened the door and invited a madman in." Finch shook his head slowly. He should've guessed it would come to this. Why did things never just work out properly these days? "Argyle isn't starting a peaceful negotiation Finch, he's paved the way for a war, and if we start fighting against America, who do you think will win?"

That answer was obvious. "Anyone but us."

_The Price We Paid: Vantage Point _returns in 2010


End file.
